


I Just Needed Eight

by mcubeliza



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anyways we’re good now, Bellarke, F/M, I cried while writing this, Literally because I accidentally deleted half of it, Lots of it, post 6x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-25 22:39:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19755193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcubeliza/pseuds/mcubeliza
Summary: hi everyone this is a post 6x09 one shot—can we just discuss the angst in that episode that of course will be taken nowhere—at least beliza is married <3 also i’m apologizing in advance for the length—i got carried away :’)basically bellamy is set to get clarke back and finds octavia and gabriel. clarke doesn’t wake up and bellamy leaves to go back to sanctum to get the others. (by the way: the povs change each time you see ***)





	I Just Needed Eight

I whirl the bike around in the opposite direction, abandoning Josephine's body behind me, pointing the nose where I had come from—where I had left Bellamy. 

I had practically impaled him with the keys to remove the locks and chains binding his wrists together, and I know that Bellamy would utilize them quickly and escape the area; however, I—I just had to see for myself. To be positive that nobody had gotten to him. 

By the time I reach the mouth of the cave I can feel my— _Josephine_ and I's—blood lapping amidst the insides my head, throbbing like a heartbeat. My vision is blurred as the wheels of the bike skid to a halt on the forest floor. Cautiously, I remove my helmet and step off the vehicle; however, I immediately lose balance on the uneven ground and I crumble forward, whining as I connect with the dirt. 

Clenching my teeth, I use my elbows to hoist my frail body upwards and I wobble for a few moments before I find my feet again. Yet I continue to stumble, sticks splitting underneath of my weight, until I reach the cave's opening. 

“ _You must have a death wish._ ”

Startled, I jerk violently, whipping my head around at the sound of Josephine's playful teasing. An accidental whimper escapes from my lips and I freeze, knowing that if anyone is around, I am as good as dead. 

“ _If you can hear me and I’m not even next to you—it's getting worse_.” Her voice is followed by the detection of a crooked sneer, a smug expression taped across her slender features. 

I swallow the lump in my throat, coming to the conclusion that the barrier between our minds is nearing it’s final breath. With one quick sweep of the cave with my eyes and a quiet call out for Bellamy, I retreat back to the bike, foundering as I attempt to swing my leg over the other side without collapsing to the earth. 

“ _My God, you're so stubborn._ ”

Hands trembling, I shove the helmet back onto my aching head, then noticing how pale my fingers had become. With a frustrated grunt, I snarl in flawless Mandarin. “Yeah, I could say the same about you.”

With that, I send the bike forward, accelerating with every passing second in search for Bellamy, and in search for Gabriel; all while my mouth floods with the metallic taste of night blood, Josephine’s declarations shouting across every inch of my skin.

***

“Octavia.” Her name stumbles off of my lips as I approach the tent where she has just emerged. Her brown locks are no longer matted, the ghastly whites in her eyes had diminished. When I look at her I see my little sister on the Ark, scrambling under the floorboards, an innocent smile plastered across her cheeks after telling her that we’ll play later.

I know she is no longer the person I had come to fear following Praimfaya, yet as quickly as my feet go to carry me forward, they finish.

“Bellamy?” Her voice is phrased more as a question as she closes the gap between our bodies. The feeling of my sister's arms wrapped around my neck in an embrace is so foreign. It's been a lifetime. 

She’s compact, but her head still fits in the space between my shoulder and my neck. I hug her back with strong arms, barely hesitating. 

Moments later though, O pushes away, sweat beading the area below her hairline and I waste no time. Quickly, I recap to her the tale of Clarke's body becoming a host for Josephine Lightbourne, which should be just that, _a tale_. Her eyes are wild, widening, yet she doesn’t look fearful. When I conclude, I tilt my head, waiting for her words. “O,” I stammer. There’s not enough time in the world right now to express how I feel to my sister. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, but I—I need your help.” 

I open my mouth to continue, yet my O cuts me off instead. “I know—Bellamy, _I know_.” My expression must be obvious because my sister continues. “Clarke radioed. She’s coming.” 

It is then that my eye catches hold of a dull figure beyond her. Where Octavia had appeared, now stalks a man, older than I, but not by much. 

That's when my brain connects the dots and his name falls from my lips. "You’re Gabriel?" I say slowly. _If he's Gabriel, then Clarke should be here soon._ “Is she close?” I ask exasperatedly. I can feel my chest rising and falling, anxious; however, the silence is my answer. 

Gabriel bites his lip, eyes falling to the dirt. “I’m not sure.”

Releasing my fingers from Octavia’s arms, I move in front of the man in one stride. “You have to help me,” I beg, the corners of my eyes wielding salty tears. “Clarke Griffin, she’s—she’s—” And as if a switch was flipped, my brain can no longer find the right words to form a coherent sentence. 

Gabriel instantly picks up on my uncontrollable emotions, yet he chooses to ignore it, his mouth a stiff line etched across an unfeeling face. In the distance, there's a rev of a motorbike and he barely twitches. However, as the engine grows louder, Octavia moves to touch his shoulder and Gabriel lifts his head to listen. “That must be her,” O says confidently. 

My balance wavers for a moment when Gabriel’s eyes meet mine. He looks— _estranged_. “Can you do it?” I finally ask, almost inaudibly. “Can you take Josephine out?” 

“I—” He starts.

“And not kill Clarke in the process?” My heart pounds, my tongue dry. 

Gabriel’s eyebrows pinch together and I give him a slight nod to let him know I’m done before the sound of the engine abruptly draws our intention elsewhere. My eyes scan the forest around us while he begins to speak behind me. “If I work quickly enough, but Josie’s a fighter—she’s not going to make it easy.” 

I spin my head around to face him and Octavia’s hand falls from his shoulder. 

“She told me she loves you.”

Gabriel practically scoffs dryly. “She’s obsessive, that one.” He takes a deep breath. 

“You’ll do it though, right?” Octavia hesitates, sparing me a glance before she turns, positioning herself in front of Gabriel’s chest. “You have to do it, it—it’s _Clarke_ , Gabriel.” 

I don’t have time to persuade him any more. 

There’s a thud and I turn.

The world pauses when I see her; time stops as I stand there, dumbfounded, panicking as I feel the color drain from my face. Terror washes over me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

There’s black blood cascading from her nose, descending from the openings of her ears, the corners of her eyes. 

“Bellamy?” Her voice is raspy, _distant_. 

I move towards her, slow at first then briskly as her body buckles, then begins to give way. My arms hook around her back, seizing her before she hits the dirt.

“Clarke?” I plead as her blue eyes clutch my gaze for a moment, her pupils broad in horror, blinking harshly, _struggling_ , before ultimately closing. “Clarke—Clarke, stay awake for me, okay? Look at me, look at me.” I sense the shadow of my sister and Gabriel overtop of me as I implore, lowering Clarke’s body as I bring myself to my knees. “No, no, no—no,” I cry out, using my sleeve to wipe the black blood oozing from her nostrils. 

I yell, a harsh, half-stifled groan, dread rising in my stomach as I jostle her small-scale limbs. I hover over her chest, my tears pooling in an unbroken stream. 

“Guess again, lover boy.” 

Clarke’s eyes open, but they’re not her own. Josephine smirks, tilting her head away from me to spit blood into a puddle beside her shoulder. 

I want to release my grip on her, let her fragile bones slam; however, I can’t bring myself too. I see Clarke, gasping for air, her lungs tightening as she scratches at her throat, battling for control. 

So instead, I sniffle, stand, and haul her to her feet with balled fists. 

Josephine shakes her hair sporting a drunken expression. Raising one eyebrow uncharacteristically to Clarke, she taunts. “Gabriel.” She sucks in a shaky breath. “Long time—no see.” I take into account the sound of her voice trailing off, completely dazed and lazy. 

“Not long enough.” 

If the comment hurts Josephine, it doesn’t show. Alternatively, she straightens her back and clears her throat. “Are you going to—to kill me, Gabriel?” She slurs, her jaw slacked. 

I hold onto her arm tighter when she begins to slump forward. 

“Don’t—don’t you love me?” 

“Take her inside.” Gabriel spits, wasting no time, spinning on his heel to retreat back into the tent. I do as he says, dragging Josephine’s near limp body beside me. Octavia hustles to her other arm and tosses it over her shoulder, helping me lug her across the open space. 

Inside the small area, Gabriel motions for a makeshift, leather bed with wrist and ankle binds in the appropriate places. 

“Who knew _this_ is how we would spend the last time talking to each other.” Josephine mocks as I reach an arm underneath of her knees. 

However, she has contrasting plans, and utilizes what little strength she has left to untangle herself and wrestle against mine and Octavia’s grips, pummeling the hardwood floor with a crash. 

It isn’t until then that I see Gabriel’s face again. He evades eye contact, yet I catch traitorous tears melt down his cheeks, as he reaches both hands down to hoist Josephine close to him. His expression is contorted, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

Gabriel’s eyes are wide and he shakes Josephine with every word. When I attempt to speak—to warn him that Clarke feels it too, Octavia places a soothing hand on my arm. 

“Let him have his moment,” she whispers to me. 

So I wait, impartial to the situation.

“The primes were a _mistake_ , they were a mistake since the beginning, Josie!” He explodes, his whole upper body tensing, muscles protruding from underneath his clothing. “And if this is how it ends then so be it.” 

I watch Josephine’s body go limp and I can _hear_ the exhaustion in her voice when she sneers again. “The things people do for love.” 

My body is paralyzed, and a scream begins to form inside my chest.

”I don’t love you, Josie, not anymore, not like I used—”

”Shut—up, it’s not about you.”

I feel three sets of eyes on me, my heart hammering against my rib cage. I know what she is going to say before she says it.

Echoes of Clarke’s voice begin to replay over and over again in my head like time warps of shapes and sounds—hitching my breath.

” _You need forgiveness? Fine, I’ll give that to you, okay? You’re forgiven_.” 

“ _You’re not a murderer_.”

“ _I need you_.”

” _I’ll stop fighting, just please don’t kill him_.”

” _And now you’re home_.”

My eyes meet Octavia’s. 

“ _Pleading for the life of a traitor, who you love_.” 

It’s true. 

“She loves you, too, you know?” Josephine sniffles, a trickle of black blood getting stuck on her lip. “It’s written all over her mind space.” 

Gabriel heaves her body onto the table easily, binding her ankles and wrists to the leather, then tossing two more across her chest and abdomen. I watch her wince when he tightens them, elevating the table vertically so that he can have access to her neck through the table’s opening. 

“She’s—she’s a bit ri—ridiculous,” Josephine gags when Gabriel sticks her with a needle on the inside of her elbow. I watch black blood flood the clear tube and enter Clarke’s body. 

Gabriel clears his throat as he pulls gloves over his fingers, a mask across his nose and mouth. “It won’t be long until she passes out.” His voice is muffled as he fumbles with what I know are surgical tools. 

There’s a void in my chest, the same void I felt when I left Clarke behind on Earth. Every bone in my body pierced my brain that day, shouting at me to just _tell_ her and I never acted upon it. 

Today is different.

I guide myself so that I stand before Josephine, who fades in front of me. 

“ _Yes, she can hear you_.”

”Hey, it’s me.” I reach out, fumbling as I catch her hand. I expect Josephine to flinch against my touch, but to my surprise, she doesn’t. “It’s just me,” I say softly, suffocating in my own head. Tears fog my vision and I try to hold back the seething wave about to come forth. “I know you can’t talk, but—but I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere.” My lip starts to waver while my thumb runs circles around her knuckle, shivering in her small hand. “And I’ll be here when you wake up—I promise.” 

I steal one final glance into Josephine’s— _Clarke’s_ eyes. Her face is sunken, haunted and pale. 

“She’s tired, Bellamy,” Josephine splutters. “She—she can’t hear you an—anymore.”

I shake my head, squeezing the fingers which belong to Clarke. “Please be okay,” I choke.

“She can’t—”

”I’ve loved you since that day in the woods, Clarke,” I blurt, my shoulders shaking with sobs. “Please don’t leave me, I can’t do this without you.” 

A gentle sigh is my sign and I use my free hand to wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes. When I look up again, her eyes are closed, a peaceful line formed with her lips. 

It takes Gabriel less time than I imagined to remove the chip from Clarke’s head. There’s plenty blood loss, however. At one point, I began yelling out to Gabriel, threatening him with my words. Octavia had to yank me backwards. 

She hasn’t released my arm since. 

“Now, we play the waiting game,” Gabriel concludes, finishing the procedure by settling the table back into a horizontal position. Throughout the course of the surgery, he placed a heart monitor on Clarke’s chest, which I recognized from the Ark so long ago. I don’t ask how he happened to get his hands on one in the midst of a forest. The machine beeps beside her steadily, recording her heartbeat. 

I drug a plastic chair next to her head, and I sit, my legs sprawled out in front of me, my fingers running through her golden locks. 

Ten minutes turn into sixty, an hour turns into three, which eventually turns into six. 

An aching pain resides throughout my body and as time goes on, it only gets more difficult to bear. 

Following the passing of the seventh hour, I remove my hand from Clarke’s hair, and push myself to my feet. 

In two strides I’m in front of Gabriel, who leans over a counter near the entrance to the tent. I swallow hard. “You said it should only take about six hours.”

”Bell,” Octavia warns, arriving at my side in seconds. 

“Did you lie?” I raise my voice. “Did you?” 

Gabriel stares into my eyes intensely, biting his lip before answering. He’s afraid—I know. “She was too far gone.” 

His words are so quiet, I don’t think I hear him correctly. “What?” My voice cracks, sweat drenching my body from head to toe. 

The man in front of me exhales softly. “The wall between their mind spaces was completely gone.” Fear cripples my body as the words fall from his mouth. “Collateral damage.” 

I try not to allow the fight responses kick in, yet I utterly forget why when my hands find his throat. “You knew? And you just let me fucking _sit_ there thinking it worked?” 

“Bellamy!” Octavia’s shrieks erupt from behind me, and I feel her tiny hands yank at my shoulders. “Bellamy, stop!”

”How dare you! How _fucking_ dare you!” My cheeks are in flames, nostrils flaring like a rabid animal. My body is tense, strong, yet _frail_. 

With one last shove, I retreat, crumbling to the floor, gasping for air. Octavia scrambles in front of me, grasping my wrists together. I double over in an agonizing pain, searing the insides of my head like a razor-toothed creature tearing me open from the inside out. 

This has to be a dream. 

My body is numb, my ears deaf to the noises around me. My chest cries out, on fire, pinching as if pins and needles puncture my heart. I’m dizzy, shaky violently as my sister throws her arms around me. She lets me sob into her shoulder, soaking the fabric of her jacket for however long I need. 

“ _Whenever you’re ready_.” 

***

It’s dark here. 

And quiet.

The only thing I can feel is the void—the hollowness. I’m floating in an abyss of an emptiness I can’t recognize. 

I shakily inhale in one last puff of air, releasing it leisurely. It’s followed by a tightness in my chest, a stinging in my lungs. 

When my eyes close one last time, I reminisce in the echoes of his voice, the gaze etched across his features of what I saw through Josephine’s eyes. 

I’m sorry I failed you, Bellamy.

***

Gabriel escorts me to the edge of the forest, the edge of Sanctum. 

“The forcefield is down,” he says neutrally. “You can just walk across.” It’s the first words either one of us had spoken since leaving the tent where Clarke’s body and Octavia remain. 

It took me much convincing post panic attack to abandon Clarke to return to Sanctum. Nevertheless, Octavia knew Clarke would have wanted Madi there and that I needed to be the one to retrieve her. 

The reality that the forcefield is down doesn’t bother me like it should. I make my way across, dazed, my stare focused on my boots kicking through the grass. There’s a compressed feeling stretched across my forehead, straining to keep together a cracked glass about to rupture again. 

“Bellamy?”

I whip my head upwards, half-expecting to see a giddy blonde bounding towards me. 

“Bellamy? Are you okay?” Echo’s hands find my shoulders, her eyes inspecting my face. “What happened out there?”

There’s a long pause, and I’m paralyzed in my feet all over again. The feeling immobilizes my brain and I begin to sway in my spot.

“It didn’t work, did it?” It’s Emori’s voice, I know; however, I can barely recognize it. Echo, too, peers around my upper body, searching for the woman that was supposed to be returning with me by my side. 

No, it didn’t—but I don’t have to say it out loud for them to know. 

When I regain slight composure, I fumble backwards two steps. “You should know,” I weep. “I was in love with her.” 

“I always did.”

I don’t know how many pairs of arms embrace my body as my knees buckle and collide with the grass. I don’t know how many of us are crying even though it feels like the only one who should be is me. They didn’t care for her like I did, didn’t know her like I did, didn’t _love_ her like I did. 

I’m running on autopilot, my body seizing but I can’t feel anything. 

And no matter how _fucking_ hard I try, I can’t get that image of her out of my head and instantly I feel nauseous. 

“ _Stop! The air could be toxic_!” 

***

There’s a humming sound coming from alongside of my head; sputtering with pulsations at interludes moving too quickly for me to count. My nose catches scent of something foul, yet familiar—metal, iron, maybe. But my body focuses in on one particular sound, derived from a few feet away. 

_Breathing_.

And not my own. 

I don’t know how or why or when, but my eyelids finally lift, and my vision is met with a fabricated ceiling, a dimmed lantern dangling directly above my head. 

Suddenly, I hear a high-pitched scream and it takes me far too long to realize that it’s coming from me. 

The sound of my shrieks fills the silence of the room and I can’t move—my wrists, stomach, legs all being bounded by restraints. I tremble, violently writhing my body underneath of the leather, ignoring the footsteps scrambling towards me.

”Shh—shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, I got you.” It’s an unfamiliar voice, but their hands are gentle and soft as their fingers rush to loosen the straps holding me down. When I feel the final one lift, I launch upwards, clambering backwards until I come crashing down, slamming into the hardwood floor with a thud followed by an aching sensation agonizing my spine.

My heart beats in my ears, my intestines, down my thighs as I keep my eyes screwed shut in pure and utter _fear_. 

This must be a dream.

“Clarke?”

Nope, not a dream.

I’m being held captive by my own thoughts and I’m cowering in the corner, petrified, completely numb. 

“Clarke, can you hear me?”

When I open my eyes again, I do so at a squint, blinking stupidly until I can focus on the figure hovering above me. Octavia’s long locks tickle my cheeks, her breath hot on my face. She has an arm on either side of my head, holding herself up. 

“You’re alive.”

 _I’m alive_?

”Octavia?”

I practically give myself whiplash from how quickly I jolt upwards, half-believing that the male voice belongs to Bellamy; alas, it does not, and I leisurely lie my head back onto the frigid floor.

”Gabriel!”

 _Gabriel_? 

Another shadow blocks my view of the dangling lantern. “Clarke? Clarke, what do you know?” 

_What do I know_?

Everything hits me at once and suddenly I’m scrambling my brain for any unwanted houseguests. Memories flood my thoughts—images of Murphy, Madi, Octavia, _Bellamy_. I hear their voices, carved into the walls of my head. 

I feel the pinch of the needle puncturing my neck as Russell tells me that it’ll be over soon, that I’ll be at peace.

Monty, my father, Maya, morse code. 

With a frustrated groan, I leave it alone, at least for _now_. Because I’m alive, breathing shallowly, but _alive_. “I know that—I’m alive,” I stifle a laugh, however I find that I can’t contain it. “I’m _fucking_ alive.” 

“You’re alive!” Octavia punches the air with her fists, falling to her side in giggles. Gabriel soon follows, stumbling back to lean against the bed. 

For a few forgetful minutes, the three of us howl in laughter and I ignore the aching cramps growing throughout my body. Eventually, however, the room goes silent. 

Octavia coughs, Gabriel practically hums. 

“Where’s Bellamy?” I blurt. There’s something I need to do, I don’t add. 

Octavia’s smile falters and her gaze softens and my stomach sinks, not at all prepared for the worst. “I forced him to go back to Sanctum,” she says, dropping her eyes to look at her lap. “He thinks you’re dead.”

I begin to shake my head as Octavia leans down, wrapping her fingers around my upper arms and hoisting me to my wobbly feet; and I wince loudly. 

“Did you hear him, though?”

I nod once, close to her face. Her green eyes sparkle in innocence this near. 

“Then, we’re going to go give him the best surprise of his life.”

Octavia sits me between her and Gabriel on the motorcycle, holding her hands firm underneath of my arms to keep my body from toppling over. As we ride, the unevenness of the forest floor jerks the bike, sending waves of violent pains, rapid and tormenting, across the surface of my skin. 

As we accelerate, my stomach turns in knots—anxiety, physical pain, the latter, _both_. I rotate my head and talk lowly enough just for Octavia to hear. “What—what if,” I whimper, picturing Bellamy’s face in front of my own. “I don’t know what to say?”

”Then don’t say anything.”

The vehicle crashes over another branch and my skin turns to flames. Clenching my teeth, I continue. “But, what—”

”We’re here.”

It occurs to me then that I’ve never really seen the outskirts of Sanctum. 

Gabriel hoists me off of the motorbike, planting my feet onto the ground, gripping my shoulders until Octavia takes over. I utilize those few moments to scan the area around me, the towering plants forming rows, the shrubbery—and then my eye focuses on one, sole thing, the electricity tower. 

“ _Ai gonplei ste odon_.” _I accept my fate as my boot finds the first ring of the ladder. My breath hitches on the lack of air as I scale the tower, faltering only once, yet that is when I catch sight of the colossal wave of shades of orange and green, racing towards me at an accelerating rate, fogging my helmet. I readjust myself and keep climbing. Reaching the top, I commence in my operation to realign the dish when my eyes identify the spaceship headed for the stars—carrying my people,_ Bellamy _. Warm colored smoke trails behind it, and I’m paralyzed, frozen. I can’t breathe—_

“Clarke!” 

I’m face down on the forest’s floor, hyperventilating. 

Quickly apologizing, I roll over onto my back, ignoring the terrorizing sting digging into my shoulder blades. Gabriel latches onto one of my arms and Octavia on the other, hoisting me to my feet for the final time. “Don’t be,” Gabriel mumbles, but I know he means it. 

Then—I face Sanctum.

When I see him for the first time, he is kneeling, surrounded by other bodies and facing away from me. From a distance, he seems so small, so fragile. 

I have to get to him. 

“Do you think she needs help?” It’s Gabriel’s voice again. 

”No, let her go.” I silently thank Octavia.

I begin my journey. 

I’m limping, stumbling across the place where the forcefield should be locking me out. My pulse races, my hands clammy as I founder. My legs act as if they are nothing but deadweight—heavy and useless to me. 

When I see his head turn ahead of me, I become immobilized, suddenly lost even though the only direction I have to go is straight. 

He’s aged since our first days on Earth. He broadened, grew a beard, but his eyes are still the same—dark, warm whereas mine are frigid and unwelcoming, icy; a perfect contrast. 

“Bellamy.” His name flows off my tongue only loud enough for myself to hear, like my eyes don’t believe what’s in front of me. It acts as a confirmation, yet all the confirmation I need is him standing yards away from me. 

***

Murphy mumbles something behind me, but I can’t make out anything over the sound of my feet scrambling to stand. 

She doesn’t look real. 

She’s still pale, her golden hair taped to her neck in a sweat. She’s vacated her jacket and now sports a simple long sleeve shirt, similar to the one I first met her in. She drags her body forward like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. 

I move, unsure at the beginning, but my boots eventually force me into a sprint.

***

He’s bounding towards me whereas I’m barely hitting two miles per hour.

” _Clarke_?”

”Bellamy.” 

***

My feet pound the earth, opening my arms, crashing into her. I know she’s hurt, but it doesn’t stop Clarke from propelling herself into my arms, slamming her hands around my neck, essentially knocking me off balance, yet I only falter for a moment.

I used to tell myself that my home was on the Ark, then it was Earth, the camps. Then it was the Ark again, the Earth, then my cryo tube. All this relocating made me realize what I never figured out until now. That my home is not in fact a place, a tent or even a bedroom on a new planet.

It’s a person.

***

The first thing I come to realize is how warm Bellamy is, how strong his arms are. The second thing is how tall he is.

After a few minutes, I slide down his chest, yet I don’t abandon his personal space. Our foreheads touch and neither of us can catch our breath. 

Wordlessly, I can’t help myself and I barely pause before closing the gap between our mouths, greedily tugging his head down to meet mine. 

He tastes like tears, like grief, but there’s something hopeful, something grand about the way his lips fit into mine without question. 

I only break knowing that we have a lifetime to keep going. 

Our foreheads don’t part though, and I take a moment to relay on the pain still hiding as a constant underneath the surface of my skin—but the _relief_ , the giddiness, takes control. 

Bellamy begins to shake his head. “We have to leave here, it’s—“

***

“We’ll deal with that tomorrow.” Clarke halts my words with hers and I believe her instantly. 

Yet, I can’t stop the sensation that this isn’t real—it’s a dream. My mind still processes her in front of me, the taste of her lips against mine. Tears weld in my eyes and this time I don’t attempt to hold them back. They’re hot against my cheeks, trickling down past my mouth. “I prom—promised I wouldn’t leave you. He—he told me you needed six hours to wake up.” I stutter. 

Clarke’s grin is contagious and I realize that happiness _does_ look good on her.

And if I thought it was a dream, I know sure as hell it isn’t now. She gazes at me, confirming all against what I wary. 

“It’s okay—I just needed eight.”

**Author's Note:**

> whew! this was super insane to write because i’m stupid and accidentally deleted half of it after i finished the first time so it’s giving me a lot of ptsd. my twitter is @mcubeliza let me know what you thinkkk mwah


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